


It Takes Two to Tango

by TuppingLiberty



Series: As the Universe Wills It - Force Husbands [18]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Anniversary, Dancing, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Seattle AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 18:31:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13440723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TuppingLiberty/pseuds/TuppingLiberty
Summary: On their 18th anniversary, Baze surprises Chirrut with dancing lessons.





	It Takes Two to Tango

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cognomen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cognomen/gifts).



> One year ago, I started this AU because of Cognomen's request for "baze and chirrut, modern au." I am so glad he requested it. It's become one of my favorite AUs to write in. 
> 
> Happy anniversary, guys.

“I wanna dance,” Chirrut murmured against his ear, making no move to actually slide off of Baze’s lap. 

“So dance,” Baze replied, blowing smoke over his shoulder. He was fully expecting Chirrut to start grinding on top of him, because this would not have been the first time Chirrut had gotten a wild hair to give him a lap dance. 

“No, I mean,  _ dance, _ Baze.” Chirrut deftly took the joint from Baze, then shotgunned a hit that was more tongue than weed into Baze’s mouth. Didn’t matter. Still felt good. 

He slipped his hands down over Chirrut’s ass and squeezed, grinding them together a little as their chair swung slowly and steadily in the chilling autumn air. Chirrut hummed into Baze’s mouth, burying the joint-free hand in his hair and taking the kiss deeper. 

“Dance how?” Baze asked eventually. Time was doing that weird thing, again. Well, weed was making time do that weird thing. That thing where he wasn't quite sure how long he'd actually been kissing Chirrut because it simultaneously felt like forever and also not enough.  


Chirrut growled a little in frustration. “Like  _ dance. _ ” He crushed the finished joint in the ashtray beside the chair and slid off of Baze’s lap, stumbling a little. Then he held out his arms like a ballroom dancer and started waltzing - attempting to waltz - around the backyard. 

_ “Bái chī, _ you’re going to get hurt,” Baze grumbled, standing up, feeling the blood rush to his head, and stumbling a bit himself. He grabbed Chirrut’s hips before Chirrut could waltz into the chiminea. 

Chirrut pouted up at him, then circled his arms around Baze’s neck. “So keep me safe. Lead me.” 

_“I_ don’t know how to dance, _ lăo gong.” _

Chirrut responded by leaning his head against Baze’s shoulder, and Baze felt him physically give himself over to being guided. He looked down at Chirrut’s scalp, his closed eyes, his even breathing, and Baze relaxed into the feeling of Chirrut yielding to him as he did for no one or nothing else in his life. 

He liked it, liked the absolute trust he felt in Chirrut’s body. A precious gift. Chirrut continued to hum, and Baze led, and time continued to do that weird thing as the fire crackled. 

\-----------------------------

“Sushi, Friday night?” Chirrut asked, running his razor smoothly over his skin, then following with his fingers to find the missed spots. 

Baze’s fingers brushed against his waist, where his pajama pants were riding low. He hummed in confirmation. “Eighteen years.” 

Chirrut found Baze’s fingers with his and linked them. “Eighteen years.” He brought their hands up for a kiss, imagined Baze’s cute blush, the way he always did when Chirrut treated him tenderly. 

“I, um, I was thinking, after sushi-” Suddenly, Baze sounded nervous, so Chirrut slipped a hand up to his face. “I might have a surprise?”

“I assume the surprise isn’t anniversary sex, because we’ve been having that for, what, the last seventeen years?”

He felt Baze’s lips twitch upwards. “There was that one year you had the stomach flu.”

“Sure, but we made up for it the next week.” 

“No, the surprise isn’t sex.” 

“Pity,” Chirrut replied blandly, just to hear Baze’s laugh. He used his hand to guide himself to Baze’s lips and brushed a small kiss there. “I can’t wait.” 

“We should, um, dress up. For it.” 

“You’re not taking me to some fancy sushi place, are you?” 

“No, no, we’re definitely still going to our place. I would never-”

“Joking, Baze. Was joking.” He kissed Baze again.

“Right. Well. For after.” 

Chirrut schooled his face to the one of utmost sincerity. “I will wear my fanciest duds.” 

“I look forward to it,” Baze replied, just the barest hint of frustrated sarcasm in his voice. 

\------------------

“I take it by the way Maiko whistled when we walked in that your fancy duds are also spectacular?” Chirrut had only felt Baze’s wool coat when he’d picked him up at the museum.

“I'm sure the whistle was all for you.” Baze’s voice was low as he squeezed Chirrut’s hand. 

“False,” Maiko chirped, setting down glasses of water in front of them after they’d taken a seat at their usual table. “Baze looks hot, Chir. You snagged a good one.” 

“I know,” Chirrut replied with a grin, finding Baze’s foot under the table and pressing it gently in comfort. As Maiko walked away, Chirrut tried his most lecherous grin, which made Baze laugh, and said, “So, hottie, what are you wearing?”

“I bought new stuff, actually. Um, a grey vest and pants, dark blue button up. The guy at the shop said it looked really good.”

_ I bet he did, _ Chirrut thought. Baze often went around this city not realizing how many people wanted to bone him on a daily basis. “Tie?”

“Blue.” 

“What color?”

“Like your eyes, I mean- um.” 

Chirrut leaned over the table trusting that Baze would save their waters, and pulled his husband forward for a sweet kiss. “You are so sweet, always. But why are you so nervous tonight,  _ lăo gong?” _

Baze was silent for a moment. Finally, reluctantly: “The surprise. You're probably going to think it's stupid.”

“I doubt it." Chirrut took a long drink of water. "So ruin the surprise. Tell me.” 

“You sure?” 

“Baby, it’s not worth having a panic attack over. It’s _our_ night.” 

“Right, so. Um. Do you remember, last fall, when we danced in the backyard?”

Chirrut thought for a moment. 

“We were high,” Baze supplied helpfully.

“Oh, right! That night. That was a good night.” Chirrut waggled his eyebrows, was pleased with Baze’s little chuckle. 

“I just got to thinking that- that I really liked that. And, um, it seemed like you liked it too, except I wasn’t very good at it-” 

“I mean, I _was_ really fucking high, but I seem to remember that you were great. Don’t insult my husband.” 

“-So after sushi we’re going to a lesson. A dancing lesson. Ballroom dancing.” 

That shut Chirrut up for a second, as he processed the emotions running through him - apprenhension, yes, but also excitement and so much love. He settled on a beaming smile. “I can’t wait.” 

\----------------------

Chirrut loved their teacher, Iulia, from the get go. She was a small woman, immigrated from Romania many years ago, and still had a slight accent. It slipped out as she corrected Chirrut’s form. He wasn’t the first blind student she’d worked with, and Chirrut found it was similar to his taekwondo training. He was very used to an instructor maneuvering his body into the correct position. 

Once Baze realized that Chirrut was comfortable, his anxiety began to drop, too. The first thing Iulia had done was test their hips. Baze had sounded embarrassed as she hummed and made little noises while presumably moving his hips back and forth. Chirrut knew he was  _ not  _ used to people touching him, other than himself.

Then she had come over and tested Chirrut, who moved fluidly with her. She chuckled in his ear. “Your man, I think he likes how you look.”

“He does,” Chirrut replied confidently as Baze grumbled in embarrassment. He must have been caught staring by Iulia. Chirrut winked. 

“I think maybe tango. Baze is a good, stable partner, and it gives you the opportunity to move and show off, Chirrut.” 

Chirrut grinned in Baze’s direction. “I think you just defined our relationship.” 

Iulia’s throaty chuckle came again. “Now, in two hours, don’t expect a routine or anything, but we can at least get you two started.” 

She worked with them, helping them find form, working through ways of helping Baze guide Chirrut back to him when it was required. 

Dancing with Baze was just as wonderful as Chirrut remembered from that night in the backyard. It was nice to know that the flying feeling came from the dancing, not just the high. As Baze held a steady frame, Chirrut twirled around him, executing what he liked to think was fancy footwork but what was probably the stuff they taught the five year olds. Didn’t matter, though, it made Chirrut feel  _ light _ and  _ amazing _ and a billion times in love with his husband. 

For his part, Baze also seemed to be enjoying himself, enjoying leading Chirrut, being his home base for Chirrut to always come back to. His voice was light and anxiety-free, now, and he laughed when they trod on each other toes and kissed Chirrut sweetly in apology. 

At the end of the night, Chirrut’s heart felt like it was beating a million miles a minute, and not just because of the workout, but because of how it felt all night to be in Baze’s arms in that way. Dancing felt like an extension of everything about their relationship that worked, Chirrut mused to himself. They’d been dancing for years and just hadn’t known it.

“I have a class on Tuesday nights, you two would fit right in.” 

Chirrut held out Baze’s coat, smoothed it over Baze’s shoulders when Baze slipped in it, then waited as Baze performed the same task for him. He slid their fingers together and leaned into Baze’s side. “I would love that.” 

He felt Baze kiss his scalp. “Me, too. So we’ll see you on Tuesday.”

They walked out into the January rain, Baze holding their umbrella as Chirrut walked with his cane, their fingers linked between them to stay warm.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm animalasaysrauer on tumblr. Comments and kudos are always appreciated!


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